by Carmen Fought
When I listen for your heart / I listen with my hands, / I listen with a hand on your chest
by B.A. Van Sise
I like the South. It’s America’s side porch: a great place to hang out, watch the world go by, stay dry when a rainstorm hits as you watch and whisper we needed this.
by Laura Ruby
People ask how I feel these days but / my tongue is both too sharp and too tender.
by Chris Atkin
If I ever have a daughter I hope she knows / that even though her father’s bones / are made of mountains, in these hands / she will find nothing but softness
by Sarah Freligh
My mother is crying again, and we’re laughing / at her because we know nothing of loss and its sad math
by LaVie Saad
It’s a traditional house, because every morning when the sun rises, when sweet yellow rays reach to kiss our bronze skin through the hand-sewn curtains and double-paneled windows, they only find mine.
by Karen McIntyre
Every morning, I make a neat grid with 10 perfectly square boxes, each square worth 100 calories, and that’s what I get for the day.
by Grace Shuyi Liew
As soon as I’m released to the store floor, I turn against the company. I scan every third item the customers bring to the register. Buy one item, get two free.
by Cecil Morris
I was her second-chance, replacement dad, / a do-over daddy meant to keep her safe
by Terry Trowbridge
The shortest unit of time in my life / was the space between undoing one shoelace / and about to undo the other.